Contact: 6 Months
by sallyl79
Summary: 'Blood, Jane's blood, was all over Maura's body.' 6 months into their relationship the couple have to deal with the aftermath of the BPD shooting. And as Hoyt hears the news of Jane's injury he begins to plot his return to their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**From the Contact Universe. Reading earlier stories would be helpful - in fact, reading '3 Months' is essential if you want to be able to follow the flashbacks. The flashbacks are in italics, I hope it's easy enough to follow! Visiting a little bit of cannon here but it's unlikely I'll stay with it for long. Just borrowing the bits I want!**

**As always, comments and feedback very welcome. Thanks you for reading.**

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**CONTACT: SIX MONTHS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Jane!"

Maura bolted through the doors of Boston PD headquarters just in time to see Jane push the gun to her abdomen and pull the trigger.

When she looked back on this moment in years to come she wouldn't remember exactly how she got to Jane's side. She wouldn't recall Korsak's screams to stand back and wait until they were sure Marino was dead. She wouldn't have any recollection of Frost's desperate scramble to get to her side, to hold her back. She would only remember the deafening explosion she heard as the bullet left it's housing and ripped through Jane's struggling body. She would forever feel the wave of nausea that threatened to paralyze her as she watched the detective's lifeless form crash to the ground. She would be haunted by hideous visions of the blood that pumped through the cracks in her fingers as she held her lovers body and begged for her to stay with her. And she would be plagued with guilt at how little she had done to help her, how ineffectual she had been when Jane had needed her most.

Maura watched helplessly as the medics worked on Jane. Through the chaos Maura tried to listen to their assessments. She tried to interject, to vocalize her diagnosis and recount timings, projections, prognoses but she was crippled by fear. She fought the urge to vomit and only when she put her bloody hands to her mouth did she notice that she was shaking, violently.

Jane was ferried away quickly. As the ambulance disappeared from view Maura broke down. "Please, somebody, I have to go with her. Please!" It was like a nightmare. She was screaming but she couldn't hear her own voice. "Please!"

Korsak was first to attempt to console her.

"Come with me." He moved to put a protective arm around her but she pushed him away. His shock was blatant as she appeared to stare right through him and ordered, "Take me to her Vince, now. Or I swear to god..."

* * *

_Her heart had started to pound almost intolerably as they walked side by side through her kitchen and out on to her back porch. She had confessed to Jane hours later that she had wanted to tug at her then and, at the final hurdle, pull her back to the safety of their painstaking but thrilling secret. But she hadn't. For the thousandth time her rational side had proved victorious. And anyway, she had told herself, at that point they didn't really have a choice._

_They stood on the porch for what felt like an eternity and waited to be noticed. _

_Maura hadn't known where to look. Utterly unprepared she had asked herself, should she try to make eye contact? Try and meet a friendly face? She had fussed with her hair, scratched lightly at her jawline. Unaware of her motivations in that moment, she had tried to mute their presence by hiding half her body behind Jane's towering form. But Jane had been bold. She had counterbalanced Maura's apprehension and she had commanded attention. Shoulders pulled back, chest proudly pushed out, she had stood tall and squeezed reassuringly at Maura's hand. And moments later, Maura had experienced Jane in all her frighteningly fearless glory. _

_And she had fallen a little deeper in love with the detective._

* * *

''I need to call Angela. Somebody needs to call Angela. Is Frankie here? Did they bring him here?" Maura was pacing the hospital corridor. Rambling. Lost. Indifferent to who was listening.

Blood, Jane's blood, was all over her clothing. She could feel it beginning to stiffen her dress. She lifted her hands, palms out. Her lovers blood was all over her body. Smeared and browning. She could feel the smudges on her cheek as she frowned. She observed the strange, dry, flaking droplets on her shins. She felt the clotting fragments under her fingernails.

"She did this to herself. _She_ did this." She was mumbling. Again, she felt like she was going to be sick.

Frost reached out to steady her. She shook under the touch and fell backwards a little. He held on to her upper arms but once he had her attention, once he looked into her distraught, wild eyes, he realized he had nothing to offer her. No reassuring words of kindness. No platitudes.

"Frankie is here. He's going to be ok. You saved him doc." He forced a smile. "Let me call Angela. You need to sit down. Come on." He lead her to the family room offered to them on arrival. Cops prerogative.

* * *

_"Jane?" Angela had being, perhaps unsurprisingly, the first to notice them. "Maura?" She was the first to acknowledge the fundamental change in their chemistry. The first to see the undeniable magnetism hovering between the two women. The first to notice their linked hands._

_"Ma." Jane acknowledged her mother's curiosity but she had left her with the space she needed to unravel the implications of what she was now notably trying hard to absorb._

_"What's going on?" Angela's look of bemusement would have been funny to Maura if she hadn't been so concerned for Jane. It was all she could do to stop herself from spitting out the mantra that kept swimming around her head, 'Please don't be disappointed in her. Please don't be disappointed in her. Please don't be disappointed in her.'_

_"Are you two...?" Maura had watched while Jane gave Angela one of those disparaging looks she always seemed to reserve just for her mother. She had felt sorry for Angela and was about to jump in and explain everything when Jane did what Jane alway does. She lost patience. _

_"Everybody! Could we have your attention please?"_

_"Jane!" Maura hissed her objection to the detective's intentions. _

_"Like ripping off a band-aid Maur." Jane had whispered back with a rather disarmingly charming smile._

_The ensemble had turned to look at them. Synchronized staring. Harmonized confusion. Angela's mouth was gaping._

_"Wow. They're an obedient bunch." Sarcasm. Maura recognized the tone. Jane continued, "Maura and I have something we'd like you all to know. We are not looking for approval. We are not looking for appraisals. We just want to put it out there." Another squeeze of her hand, another bolstering smile from the detective, and Maura was on board. _

_"Maura and I are..." Jane had paused. She appeared to be searching for the right word but Maura could feel the nerves Jane was involuntarily transmitting through their interlaced fingers. "We are together." She left no time and no space for reactions before adding, "Now, that's that. Who's for another drink?"_

* * *

"Maura." Jane's mother was eerily, uncharacteristically, quiet. "Honey? Can you hear me?" Lost in her thoughts, Maura had barely noticed she there until Angela was crouched in front of her, weathered hands holding on to blood stained knees.

"Oh, Angela. Hi." Maura remained still, expressionless.

"I've spoken with Frost and Korsak. Jane is coming out of surgery." Maura was still colorless, still vacant. "Come with me sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."

Angela led Maura to the nearest restroom. She dampened some paper towels and wiped the blood from Maura's face tenderly. Not one word was exchanged as she soberly rinsed away all remnants of her daughters blood. She took hold of Maura's hands and encouraged her to place them over the sink. Running the water until in was tepid, she gathered some soap into her hands before covering the doctors own. The water felt good. Angela's touch felt loving, calming. Maura wondered for a second if their was something disturbing about the fact that she had not once felt the urge to call her own mother for support, for exactly this kind of comfort.

"Is she..." Maura struggled to speak. She hadn't made a sound in over three hours. Connecting the thoughts in her head to the words coming out of her mouth now felt like a strange, otherworldly thing to do. Her throat felt constricted. She tried again, "Is she going to be ok?"

"She lost a lot of blood Maura but she is going to be fine. And Frankie too. They are both going to be fine." Angela dried off Maura's hands but her eyes never left the doctors face.

Maura's heart started pounding. Her eyes watered and her hands shook. Angela squeezed at them tightly. "She's ok Maura. She's a fighter. You know that."

Angela heard the involuntary hitch in Maura's breathing. "Thank god," she wept. "Oh, thank god." All at once, she let go of the anxiety she had been fighting so hard not to feel. She let go of the feeling she'd been so reluctant to acknowledge was even there. The gut wrenching feeling of loss. The unbearable notion that she would never see Jane alive again. That she would never be able to look at her deep brown eyes or see her smile again. Never be able to touch her and feel her warmth. She sobbed uncontrollably and let Angela take the weight of her limp body. The numbness was lifting. Jane was going to be ok.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry I've been away from this for so long. Think I might have lost my mojo.**

**To be honest I'm not really sure where this is going but I hope it will be an interesting ride while I figure it out! I'm determined to keep writing! **

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**CONTACT: 6 MONTHS**

**CHAPTER 2**

I am sat in the common room when I hear the news. Immediately I am overcome with a desire to tell Jane that I feel her pain, that I feel eviscerated. I can't believe I was absent in the latest chain of events that have nearly led to her demise. I want to whisper in her ear that I am a little surprised. The news of her _near _death experience invigorates me. I feel turned on. I want to tell her that I have never wanted her more. I want to climb on top of her unconscious body and kiss her mouth.

It's been eight months since I last saw her; eight months since I last felt her angry hands on me. She smelt divine, of course. Around me fear pours from Jane like a fountain and I have a nose for the detective's fear because when Jane is afraid, I come alive.

Her picture appears up there on the TV screen. Moments later, I appear next to her. _The Boston detective nearly slain by a madman._ I am drawn to the site of our first encounter. Those scars on her hands were my first gift to her. They are my design, my brand on her effervescent skin. I am imagining were her hands are now, lifeless at her side as she lies in her hospital bed clinging to her sad little life. And I imagine Dr Isles - her paramour - keeping vigil. The enchanting siren is, no doubt, heartbroken. When I close my eyes, I can see her weeping. I can see her touching those hands and comforting a sleeping Jane as if they belong together.

But Dr Isles is mistaken. Like so many of my lovers, Jane has neglected to tell her courter that there is no room in her life for her. She has neglected to tell her that her fate as Jane's muse is a dangerous one. She hasn't told her that I will devour and destroy her.

So, I am excited now. The news anchor tells me that Jane will survive and with this news I know I will have time to finish what we started. I will have time to get to Jane's side and perform my final act of love for her before I bathe in her rich, dark blood.

I feel galvanized when I am able to imagine the tortured arousal in Jane's eyes as she watches me consume the medical examiner. I will now be able to listen to Jane's pleas for mercy as I put myself inside the doctors fragile body and silence her screams by cutting her pulsating throat with my scalpel.

And as Jane watches the life slowly fade from the woman she has allowed herself to imagine she loves, she will never doubt the connection between us again.


	3. Chapter 3

**CONTACT: 6 MONTHS**

**CHAPTER 3**

"Jane. Can you hear me?"

The day's makeup had long since worn away and Maura felt maddeningly uncomfortable in the scrubs she had changed into hours ago. She was so tired. Her eyes were still slightly swollen, her cheeks sore from wiping away tears. Now, she could feel a burgeoning headache and she could have sworn her throat was starting to close up. She kept talking to Jane anyway, the dull pain in her chest vaguely alleviated by the gesture.

"Jane? Sweetheart."

With her hair loosely tied back, the intense fatigue Maura was feeling was clearly plain to see. Maura was forced to acknowledge this as the team caring for Jane faultlessly extended their kindnesses to her. And they had been decent enough to let Maura stay long past visiting hours. Just moments before the night closed in on the ward, one of the nurses had bought her a cushion and a blanket. She had even prepared her a sandwich, which Maura had politely rebuffed, and some coffee, which she had sipped at lightly until it was too cold and too congealed to even contemplate finishing it.

Maura caught a slight flicker of movement in the doorway. She turned to meet the apologetic gaze of another of Jane's nurses. Maura guessed she was in her mid 50s. Her sandy blonde hair tied in to a tight bun, she reminded Maura of her second grade teacher. She was comfortingly familiar. Drawn to her kind eyes, Maura watched as the woman silently tilted her head towards Jane, a wordless request to interrupt their privacy and check the patients vitals. Permission was granted with a brief exchange of tired smiles as Maura sat back in her chair.

The nurse, whose name Maura had still not been able to retain, spoke as she went about her business. "Dr Isles, you should really try and get some rest. You are no good to her in this state."

Suddenly aware of the time, Maura looked at her watch. Twenty past two. She wasn't even sure how long she had been at the hospital. It already felt like a lifetime had passed since Korsak and Frost had tried to insist she follow their lead and go home and get some rest. But, angry at the suggestion that she leave Jane, she had remained defiant. She wanted to be the first thing Jane saw when she opened her eyes.

She watched intently as the nurse performed her checks. Her weary eyes lethargically followed each gesture the nurse made until they finally settled on Jane's chest. The luminescent glow of hospital equipment was an eery backdrop to the reassuring rise and fall. It was such a simple motion but one that was now bringing an uncomfortable lump to Maura's throat. An almost imperceptible shiver overtook her. She shifted awkwardly in her seat to stifle it.

"I want to be here for her. I want to be awake in case she needs me." Maura heard herself. She sounded monotone, almost too tired for emotions. She was relieved. She didn't want to break down in front of the nurse again.

"Dr Isles." The nurse's tone was soothing but there was something else there, something that felt almost parental to Maura as she added, "We have Jane sedated. We don't expect her to stir until morning. You have time to rest now and I'd strongly advise you to take it." The woman offered Maura nothing more than a knowing arched eyebrow before she left, closing the door softly behind her.

It took all her strength to stand. Maura delicately lent over Jane's still form. "Goodnight Jane." She pushed a stray ringlet of hair away from the detective's colorless face. "I love you."

She settled herself back into her chair and closed her eyes. She barely had time to worry about nightmares before sleep engulfed her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the huge delay. Writing is HARD! Think I need inspiration. If you can bear it, bear with me.**

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**CONTACT: SIX MONTHS**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Maura awoke to the clamor of a seemingly well-rehearsed morning routine. For a moment she remained still and listened to the reassuring hustle of footsteps, the turn of gurney wheels, the intermittent rush of water, the rhythmic signals of unfailing machinery, the indistinguishable chatter of doctors and nursing staff exchanging information, sharing respectful but relieving laughter.

_All this life. And...Jane?_ She opened her eyes only to close them again against the sharp sting of the still rising sun.

She had slept soundly. She was so exhausted. There had been no nightmares to ward off, no restlessness to fight. Her position in the armchair placed next to Jane's bed had remained unchanged. Her arm, after a night spent propping up her flagging head, was numb. A slight shuffle forward and she watched as it fell to her side, lifeless and unresponsive. A wave of sadness held her stare there. All her movements, however minuscule, were now a profound reminder of her lack of control - over life, over Jane. Yes, in all their time together, Jane would now be a constant reminder to her that life has it's own, sometimes too cruel design. Every glance, every exchange between them, would be a caution to Maura to love her only as much as she was prepared to accept that fact. And was she? Was she prepared for _this_? Was she prepared for the phone call in the middle of the night? The ominous knock on the door? Was she prepared to accept her inability to hold on tightly to one the thing most precious to her. _Oh god, do I want this for my children? _But there was no time now to process the implications of yesterday's events for her future with this woman; her musings were interrupted almost as abruptly as they had arrived.

"Uh. Maur. Mau-ra?"

_Jane. _

Maura lifted her gaze to find a confused Jane pulling at the cannula running behind her ears and into her nostrils. She quickly reached to preserve the instrument. "Jane, baby, don't."

Standing at her side now Maura appraised her lovers sunken features. She watched as Jane fought to gain perspective of her surroundings. She moved her face closer to Jane's in a bid to help her find her focus. But Jane looked so sick and it was all she could do to stop herself from crying again. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily and shook her head gently. She could rationalize this. She had to. She knew Jane was going to be okay but she hated seeing her so helpless, so...weak.

She bought her hands to Jane's and spoke softly, "Jane. Sweetheart. I'm here. It's ok. You're ok."

Jane moved her eyes slowly to meet Maura's own. The apprehension all to apparent, she whispered, "Frankie?"

Maura smiled. It was a relief to know that Jane was still in there, somewhere. "He's fine Jane. You both are." She ran a hand tenderly across Jane's clammy forehead and down through her now slightly matted hair. "I..." Maura had so much she wanted to say but she couldn't. Not now. "I should get the doctor." She motioned to leave but a subtle shift in Jane's grip gave her pause.

"What is it? What do you need?"

"I..." Jane voice was scratchy, her mouth dry. She was struggling to speak.

"Let me get you some water."

"No. Wait. I'm fine. Just..." Jane cleared her throat and tried to raise her head a little. "Argh..." She winced through the stabbing pain in her side. "Shit."

"God, be careful Jane please!" Maura moved to place a protective hand behind her head while she rearranged the pillows beneath her. "You shouldn't be moving about." She hadn't intended to sound angry but she knew she did. As much as she tried to fight it, she _was _angry. She was angry that she couldn't simply respect and support Jane's choices anymore. Angry that she was now forced to berate Jane for all the traits that made her fall in love with her in the first place. Her fearlessness, her bravery, her goddamn pride.

"Thank you." Jane smiled an exhausted by bright smile. It was a sight that inexplicably provoked Maura's eyes to moisten.

"You're welcome." There was no smile to return. The crack in her voice betrayed her. Maura was crying again.

Jane squeezed her hand as tightly as her weakened body would allow. "I just...wanted...I wanted to say...I'm sorry Maur." The deep breath in that followed served to highlight how much of the small reserve of strength left in the detective had been depleted by the gesture.

Maura tried to fight the tears. She tried so hard to fight them. But they fell all the same. "Please Jane, I just need you to focus on getting better."

"And I need you to know how sorry I am that I put you through this Maur. I just had to get you and Frankie out of there."

"I know why you did what you did. I understand. I really do. I just... I'm just scared Jane. Really scared."

"But I'm okay. You said it yourself, I'll be okay. Right?"

"Right." Maura hesitated. _Don't say it. Not now. _But she couldn't help herself. "_This time_." Her emotions, and her fears, had got the best of her.

"Oh Maur. Please. Don't do this." Jane sighed.

"Don't do what?" Maura snapped. "Don't think about the possibilities? The odds? Don't think about all the things that could happen to you doing this godforsaken job? Don't think about what that means for our future together? Don't think about the stakes involved? Don't..."

"Maur," Jane interrupted her but she sounded tired. Maura closed her eyes and tried to remind herself that this conversation was the last thing Jane needed right now. "Maura, I'm so sorry. I don't know what else I can say."

Maura took a deep breath but the weight on her chest didn't budge. She put her hands to her head. Forcibly, she ran the sides of her index fingers under her eyes, as if wiping away the tears there would stop the flow completely. "I want to build a_ life_ with you Jane. I don't want to live in fear of death and destruction. I want us to have a future, a family..." Maura searched Jane's eyes for acknowledgment of the weight of this last confession. An almost imperceptible twitch of the lips but the reaction was there. Maura was so impassioned she almost didn't care. She continued heedlessly, "I need you to stay with me Jane. I need you to make better choices. For us. For all that we could be. Because...because we could be so much more than _this_."

A commotion at the door to Jane's room suddenly distracted them both. "Good morning. How's our patient doing today?" The doctor's timing was impeccable. Seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two women he strolled in with a disproportionately large smile on his face. Picking up Jane's charts, he marched towards her with the kind of enthusiasm and energy Jane would have, at any other time, unflinchingly teased him for. But an overwhelmed Jane could only muster a nod in his direction before her gaze returned to Maura. With honest eyes she tried to promise her that they would finish this conversation later.

"Good morning doctor." Maura committed herself to the pleasantries and procedure. "She's awake. I was just coming to get you."

"I see. And how are you feeling Ms. Rizzoli?" His voice projected the kind of animation both Maura and Jane were lacking the fortitude to cope with.

Jane groaned. "Detective."

"Pardon me?" Still that enormous smile.

"Detective. Please."

The doctor - young, fresh faced, tanned - looked at Jane, then at Maura. "Okay. _Detective_. We have a live-wire here huh?" He was trying to share a joke with a deeply unimpressed but ever-so-polite Maura. She faked a smile for him.

Jane cut in. Raising a weary arm between them she asserted, "Erm...I'm right here. You don't have to talk over me like I'm an invalid."

"Okaaay," the doctor smirked. He offered Maura a knowing wink. "So, Detective Rizzoli..."

"Just call me Jane for christ sake," she scowled.

"Jane." Although inwardly pleased to have her lover now undoubtedly intact, Maura still had her manners.

"No, ma'am, it's ok." He offered her a more sympathetic tone in reply and softened his approach with the grumbling patient. "Jane. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Well I'd say that's pretty normal given that you've been shot in the abdomen. We're gonna order you some tests today but so far we couldn't be happier with your condition."

Maura couldn't help but think this was a strange turn of phase given the situation. _Look at her, you fool._

He continued, "The bullet went clean through. It nicked your liver but the damage was minimal and we were able to repair the site of impact with no trouble during surgery last night. We'd like to keep an eye on you for a few days but I'm confident you will make a full recovery in good time. Given the risks of hydrostatic shock in an incident like this, I say you've been extraordinarily lucky."

Jane had no idea what the doctor had just said but she thanked him all the same. Right now, with Maura bearing witness, she could have done without the 'lucky' interjection but she understood why he'd said it nonetheless. When he left as jovially as he'd arrived, she was relieved to return her attention to her partner.

"Want a pr..."

"Don't Jane. He meant well." Maura was walking towards the window. Jane watched her as she settled with her head resting against the frame, her back to the detective. "I can't wait to take you home."

"Mmm...sounds good." Jane's sleepy eyes were locked on to the loose curls of honey blonde hair spilling across Maura's delicate shoulders.

Looking back at Jane, Maura smiled for what felt like the first time in days. It felt good. Sustaining. Tentatively she pushed on with her thoughts. "To our home?"

"_Our_ home?" Jane was tired, her frown triggering a strong desire to close her eyes.

"Yes." Maura returned to Jane's side. "_Our _life. _Our _home." Running a hand down Jane's long arm she leaned in to kiss the detective's slightly parted lips.

"Get some rest Jane. We can talk when you wake up."


	5. Chapter 5

**For those of you still reading this...thanks for sticking with me. Reviews have slowed but, for the record, I'd love to hear people's thoughts (good or bad!).**

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**CONTACT 6 MONTHS**

**CHAPTER 5**

In one of Jane Rizzoli's earliest memories she is running around the garden of her grandmothers house wielding a plastic sheriffs badge and pointing her diminutive Smith and Wessen .44 magnum mock up at anyone who gets in her way. She is bold, brash and happy as hell.

Still, in quieter, more reflective moments, Jane's recollection of this childhood game is muddied with the reluctant acknowledgement of a strange childhood transgression.

On that blisteringly hot day, her commitment to the adventure notwithstanding, Jane had been distracted as she ran. What she was distracted by she cannot recall but in the blink of an eye she had slipped, fallen and twisted her tiny ankle. Alone in the alley at the side of the picturesque property she was to spend so many of her childhood summers in, she had fought hard not to cry. She had sat on the stony ground for what felt like an eternity and waited stubbornly for the waves of pain to dissipate. And, through gritted teeth, she had masked her resultant limp for days. She had hidden every agonizing spasm, every laboring twinge.

Was it pride that made her do it? Probably. Because, to this very day, what Jane remembers most vividly about the event is the flash of relief she felt when she had looked around and was able to confirm that no one had seen her fall.

As a adult Jane had made so many choices in the shadow of this admission. In trying to hide her weaknesses and mask her pain, she had always tried to fall in the places where no one would see her. In practice, this meant keeping a substantial distance between her personal and professional lives. It meant sacrifice. It meant abstinence. When Jane went home at the end of the day, she was alone and she was responsible for no one. This was, it had seemed, the most comfortable and surely the safest way to live. But four years ago Dr Maura Isles had begun to carve a place for herself in Jane's life that she had been ill-prepared to fight. Maura's advances were so subtle, so painstakingly respectful of who Jane was at her core, Jane had barely noticed how momentous her infringements had been until it was too late to turn back. Countless times the woman had surmounted Jane's defenses. Too many times she had seen Jane broken. And now? Well now Jane wasn't sure she would ever be able to live without her. Maura had become a force far greater than Jane's pride ever was.

When Charles Hoyt arrived on the scene Jane had done her best to retreat but Maura had been the first to reach out and touch her marked hands. She had been the first and only person to see her cry; the first and only person who dared talk to her about his trespasses on Jane's body and the scars he had left her with. There were nights when Maura had refused Jane her solitude and, in alcohol induced hazes she had done more than hint at her desire to protect the detective from the monster still haunting her dreams. No one had ever made Jane feel so loved, so safe, and yet it had taken years for them to lift the thin veil of friendship to reveal the true nature of their feelings for one another. It had taken them years to concede to all of _this_.

"Your place feels kinda like a hotel Maur. You know that right?"

After the shooting, Jane had reluctantly consented to let Maura take care of her. She had told herself she was doing it because she loved Maura and it was what Maura wanted. But the truth was far less complex than that. Simply, Maura had won the battle with Jane's demons and she didn't want to waste another single second fighting that fact.

"Given your propensity for living in what feels more like a youth hostel, I will take that as a compliment Jane." Maura placed the blanket she was carrying over Jane's sprawling body as she spoke. "Anyway, this is your home too now. And, don't worry, I expect you to put your unrivaled stamp on it as soon as you feel better. Whatever you want." Maura contemplated that thought for a moment before adding, "Within reason."

"Within reason?" Jane smirked. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well. As a for instance, I don't think we have space for your sandman thingy." Maura raised her fists, teasing Jane with her adorable but completely ineffectual fighting stance. "That creepy looking thing will have to go."

"It's a Slam Man Maur. And we make room for him or I'm not staying."

"Mmm..." Maura feigned contemplation.

"Seriously. Not staying."

Maura sat carefully at Jane's feet, lifting them gently before settling them again on her lap. "Okay. But I drawn the line at that hideous leather couch."

"God. Woman. I sure wouldn't want to mess with your mojo but moving in together kinda means we have to compromise on a few things wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course. You're right, I'm sorry."

"So you'll get rid of the turtle?"

"Tortoise Jane. And no, Bass stays.


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm still here! I'm Persevering!**

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**CONTACT: 6 MONTHS**

**CHAPTER SIX**

My privilege for the week is well spent. Down a crackling phone line, my loyal apprentice tells me it is time. I don't dare to smile. I don't even raise an eyebrow. I have been waiting for this moment for what feels like a lifetime, I am not going to risk letting my body betray my excitement. Not now. I must continue to exercise self control.

I have the pill tucked safely away in a crevasse of my shitty mattress. Smuggled in by another loyal friend, it has been nestled safely there for three months. Knowing it is there has been a satisfying comfort for me. I have spent so many nights fantasizing about the day I get to use it. Dreaming about the places it will take me to. But the course of true love never runs smooth and recently Jane has threatened to render the fulfillment of the desire that pill promises for me redundant.

As I make the short walk back to my cage, I begin to question the courage she displayed when she shot herself weeks ago. I wonder, was it really courage Jane? Or was it your foolish pride? I know you can no longer think of yourself as invincible. It cannot be possible. I have seen _real_ fear in your dark eyes. I have seen you wince with the agony I can inflict. I have heard you scream as I turn my scalpel. I have tasted your salty tears. I have consumed your rich, Italian blood.

No. You shot yourself in spite of your fear of dying. And now? Now you have so much more to loose than you did the first time we met and I know what that does to people like you. I can barely contain the thrill it gives me to know that, this time, I can crush your spirit before I break your skin. Now that you think you are in love, I can play my preferred game with you _and _the good doctor. I can watch you fight for her life. I can watch as all that vitality, all that mettle you harbor, drains from your beautiful face when I gut her in front of you.

My apprentice tells me that you have moved into her house permanently now. You two share a home. I am so pleased. This is perfect. This means I will have all the time and space I need to do it properly. And you deserve my best effort Jane. You really do.

So, tomorrow I will risk my life so I have another chance to _own_ yours. The plan is in motion. My apprentice will continue to make the arrangements and he will keep his eyes on you and Dr Isles until I can reach you. He tells me you are still a little weak but that you are very much alive. He tells me the ME is looking after you well. I must remember to thank her before I fuck her. Perhaps I will let her live long enough to see me cut you. Perhaps.


	7. Chapter 7

**CONTACT: 6 MONTHS**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Moving into Maura's had seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Jane to do. After 6 months together they had spent so few nights apart that neither of them had really felt any significant physical impact. Jane's presence was already everywhere anyway. Movies collecting by the TV, bought over one by one for nights curled up on the sofa together; most of Jane's preferred content a strange education for Maura. Jars of instant coffee had been hidden at the back of the kitchen cupboard and this was still proving to be a minor irritation for for the doctor. A toothbrush here, a hairbrush there and, of course, Jane had adopted a side of the bed a long time ago, her territory in the bedroom demarcated by a nightstand cluttered with her debris.

When Maura had left Jane in the hospital for the first time, she had found herself sat on her lovers side of the bed, staring at that miscellany of objects that told the world, _Jane was here_. She had cried over a copy of Sports Illustrated that day, the fraying edges of paper unexpectedly bringing back warm memories of nights lying in bed listening to Jane's unfathomable monologues on the merits of instant replay or checking, whatever that was. Maura had realized in that moment that without either of them even noticing, the quiet house she had lived in alone for all these years had become a home for the two of them. She had realized in an instant that she didn't want any of this anymore, unless she had Jane there to share it with. So, after just one week in the hospital, Maura had bought her home to stay.

Jane had been itching to get away from the team that cared for her, all of whom she had unceremoniously characterized as "meddling". At the time Maura had joked with Angela that she was sure Jane would have sprinted out of the place if she had let her. It was unsurprising then that after just two more weeks of convalescing, Jane was maddeningly restless. Her body was still aching but she was in a constant struggle to stop it from competing with her overactive mind and her instinct to keep moving.

She wanted a beer. She wanted to get back to work. She wanted her life back.

So, battling to keep Jane content had become Maura's primary occupation. Despite Jane's stubborn protests that she could take care of herself, Maura had taken some compassionate leave to look after the detective. This particular battle of wills had been easily won when Maura suggested the only alternative was to move Angela into the guest house. No contest. And Jane had to concede Maura was a pretty good nurse. Gentle. Patient. Pleasing on the eye.

Maura had fed her, bathed her and all but stroked her to sleep most nights. She had made numerous trips to Jane's apartment to fetch the things she craved. Occasionally clothing or bathroom supplies but more often than not it was the things Jane thought might help her pass the time; the things she had hoped would help keep her sane while her body slowly repaired itself. Strangely, Maura had learnt a great deal about the stoic detective this way. On occasion she had almost felt uncomfortable with the arrangement. Sometimes it was a thrill. Sometimes it felt intrusive.

Jane had asked for her sweatpants and her iPod first. There were no surprises there. But after a few days, Jane had asked Maura to bring over a book she had wanted to read. Maura had only ever seen Jane read the paper or sports pages so she had found it hard not to display her surprise.

_"What?" _Jane had negated the revelation, as she so often did, with feigned indifference.

But a warmth of new love had rushed through Maura's exhausted body when she had opened Jane's bedside cabinet to find a handful of well worn novels the brunette had been hiding for what looked like forever. Top of the pile, as Jane had directed, was the book Maura was to ensure the detective had in her hands by that evening. _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_. Maura would later discover Jane had read the book countless times. _"He does the the right thing, even though everyone tells him it's wrong," _she had said self-consciously when Maura had asked her why. It made perfect sense.

Yes, Maura had done anything and everything to try to encourage Jane to relax. She worried that perhaps she had gone too far when she suggested now might be a good time for Jane to reflect on the implications of the 'incident', as she had taken to calling it. "Perhaps you should take up Cavanagh's offer of time with the department's counsellor?" she had offered, only to be met with Jane's most intimidating and icy glare. But, with nothing but time on her hands, Jane was unable to ignore the fact that she knew exactly what concerns were really running circles in the back of Maura's most beautiful mind.

She had replayed the words the doctor had reeled off at the hospital over and over in her mind. The odds. The godforsaken job. The family they could become. She was thankful Maura had been patient but she was acutely aware that the doctor would push for them to talk about it sooner or later. And Jane really didn't want to talk. Not about this. Talking without actionable purpose had always felt like an indulgance to Jane anyway, a pointless activity. Maura, on the other hand, liked to talk about _everything _and although it was sometimes hard for Jane to discern which particular conversations it was absolutely critical she actively engage in, she was pretty sure this one wasn't going to slide under the radar anytime soon.

Lying on the couch, watching a soundless game of hockey, she acknowledged she would talk to Maura eventually. It was inevitable, she always did. Maura Isles had become an exception to almost all of Jane Rizzoli's rules. Because Jane liked to indulge Maura. Because with Maura she had discovered a lot of new instincts, and the instinct to make Maura happy was all at once overwhelming, unfathomable, intoxicating and delicious.

"You want to go to bed?" Maura broke the comfortable silence as she shifted in the armchair that had propped her for the last hour while she read and stretched her tired limbs.

"Huh?" A distracted Jane turned from the muted TV to meet Maura's watchful gaze.

"Aw baby, you look so tired." Jane loved Maura but she couldn't wait until the look of concern, now almost permanently plastered to her face, disappeared. "We should go to bed."

Jane wished she could take Maura upstairs and do anything but sleep but she was exhausted, again. "Ok, let's do it." She mustered up a somewhat groggy smile to compliment her compliance but her body refused to move.

Maura's hands found Jane's. Pulling her up gently, the doctor moved to hold the detective's face with tender hands before standing on tip-toes and placing the softest of kisses on each of her tired eyes. Jane's lazy grin was involuntary. _God I love those lips._ Maura knowingly fixed her eyes on Jane's as she pulled away. Then, silently turning her body but keeping a tight hold of one of Jane's needy hands, Maura switched off the TV and the lights and led them both upstairs to bed.


End file.
